You Drive Me Crazy
by Jintachi
Summary: Oneshot. Dorothy is always extremely bored when it comes to political functions. Fortunately enough for her, Quatre is there to make things interesting on one particular evening... Slight QW x DC fluffiness. You can't even call it a romance really...


**AN: ** There's mild, MILD fluffiness between Quatre and Dorothy in this, so you've been warned. However, it's nothing explicit. If you doubt me, look at the rating. Anyway, it's mainly just humor…or so my beta reader tells me. Oh, and speaking of my beta reader, I'd like to thank her for all the times that she read this thing over for me…I would've died if not for her help! So THANKS LADY ONYX!

**Disclaimer: **Dorothy and Quatre do not belong to me, so don't sue, please… After all, I'm poor. You won't get anything!

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**You Drive Me Crazy**

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Dorothy Catalonia couldn't be more bored. Indeed, she often was when it came to these social functions. They were her least favorite things to do, after all. The annoying dances, the rather _un_desirabledelicacies and champagne, and the exhausting business or political conversations were enough to make her gag. And the persistent men asking after her didn't help any either.

"Why Miss Catalonia, I dare say that I have never seen anyone look more stunning than you this evening," the pompous man at her elbow complimented politely, grinning at her in a friendly – a little TOO friendly – manner. "Such a lovely creature as you shouldn't be over here in the shadows. You MUST dance with me. I insist. After all, it wouldn't be fair to hide yourself away in this dusty little corner. It doesn't do you justice."

She resisted the urge to scream. It was men like these that made her wish that she hadn't become more passive. Indeed, if not for all the witnesses present, she would have wrung his neck by now.

But, instead of performing publicly-witnessed murder, she glanced over at the man and, with an amiable smile that she only hoped didn't look too forced, replied, "I'm afraid that I'll have to decline the offer. As much as I would _like_ to dance with you, I doubt that I would be able to keep time with that particular dance." She nodded toward the dance floor, which was already nearly filled to capacity with glittering couples. "You see, I have what you would call 'two left feet'."

If that did anything to hint to the man that he would serve his sex better to scram, he showed no signs of it. "Might I try my hand at teaching you then?"

"Heavens no," Dorothy's grin widened a little; out of annoyance or mirth, one could not tell. "The last man that tried _that_ had to be rushed from the dance floor that very same evening by paramedics and was committed to the hospital for nearly a week while his feet recovered. He still has a limp to this very day. And I wouldn't want you to suffer the same fate."

As if THAT would be a shame.

The man's smile wavered ever so slightly, but not completely. It would seem that he would not be scared off so easily. "Well, then…it is quite a lovely evening tonight, if I do say so myself…may I suggest that you accompany me to the balcony?"

"No, as a matter of fact, you may not." The man had his mouth already halfway open in protest before she could even get out an explanation. "After all, I wouldn't want you to end up like the rest of my unfortunate balcony-going companions."

There was a pause. A hesitation. Then, "If you don't mind my asking, what happened to them?"

"Well, it all started with Monsieur Pierre. We were just having an innocent little chat…when suddenly a piece of the overhang just dropped from out of nowhere; knocked him clean off the balcony. You wouldn't have believed how high he bounced."

The man's grin wavered a little more, to Dorothy's extreme pleasure. "My…I hope the damage wasn't too grievous…"

"His injuries weren't especially serious. At least, that's what the doctors thought at first. But when he got married…it was discovered that there had been some…permanent damage associated with the fall."

"…'permanent'…?"

"Why yes." She lowered voice into an almost secretive whisper, looking around as if eavesdroppers might be present. "He's unable to reproduce."

"…o-oh…really…?" the other stuttered, sympathy written plainly on his face.

"When his wife found out…let's just say that she was…'disappointed'." Dorothy replied nonchalantly, raising her voice back to its normal octave.

"The poor fellow…"

She nodded serenely, "Yes, a poor fellow, indeed. But in comparison with the others, I would have to say that he got off easy."

"Easy, you say? But, Miss Catalonia, he…he's not able to…"

"That's true enough. But there are worse results from falling from a balcony. Why, just at last week's social, Mr. Merric Oldbrand insisted on accompanying me outside. But he somehow got caught up in my dress or something because the next thing I knew, he was tumbling over the railing. Snapped his back clean in two. Needless to say, he's paralyzed from the waist down now."

The pompous man's smile had nearly disappeared altogether by the time she had finished that narrative. Indeed, he had grown paler and paler throughout her entire balcony-tragedy-sob-story. If she hadn't known any better, she would have assumed that he had seen a ghost.

This guy was more gullible than she thought… 

Smiling as brightly as she could, Dorothy continued, "And I haven't even _begun _to tell you about the man who lost his lower legs…it was quite some years ago, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't get all the details correctly, but I believe that he—"

"No, no! That's all right, ma'am. You don't need to grace me with _that_ story," his smile had returned, but it had lost most of its pleasant quality. "Indeed, I wouldn't want to make you recollect such painful experiences…you must have been very traumatized seeing all those men just—"

"And I assure you that you are quite justified in believing so," Dorothy interrupted. "I might never be able to step foot on a balcony again. But I thank you for your concern. I'm sure you will be able to find some young woman keen on accompanying you. Someone who is less inclined to hurt her partner in some coincidental fashion." Dorothy made 'shoo'-ing motions with her hands. "Go on, I won't keep you any longer."

He was all too happy to concur. With a curt bow and a fairly rushed farewell, the man took his leave, disappearing into the bustling crowd as quickly as he had appeared and leaving Dorothy once more to her bored devices. Despite her initial feelings on the subject, she had to admit that she had found the conversation to be quite amusing, if a little degrading to the whole male population in general. However, no matter HOW amusing she had found it, she would rather not have a repeat of the incident.

So, with a quick glance around the room to make sure that no one, her former companion in particular, was watching her, Dorothy made her way quickly toward the fairly empty balcony. Like her most recent companion had noted, it was a nice evening and she would be daft if she did not at least take a moment to enjoy it…especially if that meant that she would receive some peace and quiet.

And peace and quiet was what she found. There were only two others occupying the balcony when she entered and they seemed too engrossed in one another's company to even notice her presence. Indeed, if she was lucky, no one would notice her absence from the dancing hall and she would have all the time in the world to enjoy the evening.

At least…that was what she thought. A couple minutes of peaceful bliss passed without much incident…and then, it was shattered as a fit of giggles erupted from the other side of the balcony. Glowering, Dorothy shot a venomous look over shoulder at her unwitting pests, who were, at that moment, tightly entwined in one another's arms with their foreheads touching as they gazed lovingly into the other's eyes.

The random passerby might consider the whole scene _sweet_. But this was Dorothy Catalonia. And she found it completely revolting.

Out of all the emotions in the human psyche, she considered love to be the most repulsive, most time-consuming of them all. After all, what other emotion could so completely change a respectable man or woman into a bumbling, mushy spouting fool? What other emotion could make someone lose all reason, all sensibility for some sappy sissy who claimed his/her "undying love" for him/her? None other than that despicable emotion called love, that's what, and if Dorothy had it her way than no such feeling would ever touch her heart. She happened to like being a rude, spoiled brat as a matter of fact.

Sneering contemptuously, Dorothy turned her back on the sight, trying her best to ignore her lovey-dovey neighbors. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, she was unable to do so as their inconsiderate giggling grew another octave in loudness, grating at her nerves until she could not take it anymore. So, with the most annoyed look plastered on her face, she spun on her heel with the intention of beating the two into silence and, instead, ran smack dab into the dickey/shirt of the man who had snuck up behind her, a man with familiar golden hair and bright blue eyes…

"Um…hello, Miss Catalonia…" he meekly stated, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

With a startled cry, Dorothy literally leapt away from the man, ramming into the railing and nearly falling OFF the balcony due to her momentum. Fortunately for her, her companion had excellent reaction time, quickly reaching out and grabbing her by the arm so as to prevent her from meeting her untimely end on the cold ground below. Once she was out of harm's way, he released her arm and took a couple steps away from her to give her room to breathe, shifting nervously as she steadied herself against the railing and gave the former Gundam Pilot a withering expression that could rival the infamous 'Heero Yuy Death Glare.'

"W-What on EARTH were you thinking sneaking up on someone like that!" she grounded out once she caught her breath. "Y-You could have given them a heart-attack or a seizure or-or—"

"—knocked them off the balcony?" he meekly finished for her.

"Y-YES!" Dorothy cried, pointing accusingly at the other, "YOU COULD HAVE KNOCKED THEM OFF THE BALCONY!"

Quatre Raberba Winner grinned weakly at her and stated as soothingly as possible, "I didn't mean to scare you, Miss Cata—"

"Don't you DARE act all sweet with me!"

"B-But I didn't mean—"

"But you ALMOST _DID_!" she interrupted again, glaring at him for all she was worth. "For the love of…I don't even know why I TRY." And with that said, she spun on her heel so her back was facing him, grumbling under her breath about the incompetence of men.

"I…I really am sorry…" Quatre tentatively apologized, moving up beside her on the railing and attempting unsuccessfully to angle his head so he could see her face.

Dorothy sniffed, purposefully turning her head to avoid his probing stare, "Well, next time, think before you ACT, Mr. Winner."

"Yes, ma'am." He mumbled submissively, a small, amused smile touching his lips despite the 'gravity' of the situation.

"_Good_," she replied curtly and, with the most exasperated sigh, promptly proceeded to ignore him. Of course, it was kind of difficult, considering that the man she was presently attempting to disregard was hovering at her elbow.

"So…" Quatre began idly, absent-mindedly tapping his finger on the rail, "Does that mean that you forgive me?"

"I never said THAT," was her only response.

"You never said otherwise," he countered.

"And so, you naturally assume that you're forgiven?"

"…I get your point…" he conceded, shaking his head and chuckling lightly under his breath as he murmured gently, "You know…you haven't changed much, Dorothy."

She stiffened at the implication, her eyes locking on his for a moment before quickly finding interest in the distant grounds below. It had been a few years since their inevitable confrontation on Libra, and to this day, she was still unable to come to terms with the words he had spoken to her or the actions she had taken in response to them. It was foolishness, plain and simple. She knew this, and yet, she still could not find it in her to denounce what he had told her and that made her angry. She was her own person, after all, and to have someone like him run circles about her and make her question her own motives was just downright irritating if not confusing.

"What would YOU know of it, _MR. Winner_?" she grounded out harshly, her penetrating gaze fixating on him once more. "You know NOTHING about who I am, so don't even try to fake like you do."

Quatre grinned softly at her, raising his hands in a calming gesture, "Forgive me, I shouldn't have said that. It wasn't my place."

"You've got _that _right," she mumbled, ducking her head and attempting to keep her temper in check as she mentally berated herself for losing her cool.

"I suppose I'll have to make it up to you then…" Without waiting for her reply, he cordially offered Dorothy his arm with that same, irritatingly calm smile still plastered to his face, "May I have this dance?"

A thousand excuses, most of which happened to be offensive, came to Dorothy's mind at this suggestion, but, unfortunately, she was unable to utter a single one, for no sooner had she opened her mouth to decline his proposal, had he taken hold of her arm and begun to gently pull her back inside and out onto the dance floor.

"H-Hey, WAIT a second!" If this was meant to deter the former Gundam Pilot, it did not do a very good job. "Did you hear me ACCEPT your proposal, Mr. Winner! I—"

"Now, now, let's be truthful here. You and I both know that you would not have accepted," he interrupted smoothly as he took her into his arms.

Dorothy scowled, begrudgingly placing one hand on his shoulder and clasping his waiting hand with the other, "Then why did you—"

"Well…we both _know_ that after you refused my invitation to dance, then I would naturally insist you do the otherwise," Quatre explained logically, his eyes sparkling with amusement at the bewildered look that crept onto his partner's face. "Of course, you would continue to refuse until I finally acquiesced and I would continue to insist until I could convince you to accept. So, therefore, to save us from bickering and to acquire the more favorable outcome, I thought we could simply skip all of that and get down to business." And with that said, he swept her into the first steps of the waltz, despite her protesting sputters. "Besides, how else am I supposed to make my offences up to you, hm?"

"Haven't you ever heard of just giving a humble apology?" she growled softly, reluctantly following his lead as he guided her about the dance floor.

Chuckling a little under his breath, he replied, "I DID apologize and, if I remember correctly, YOU refused to accept it."

"You don't honestly expect me to accept just ONE apology, do you?" she shot back instantly.

"What? You'd have me repeat how sorry I am over and over then?"

The slightest of smirks spread across her features, "Well, yeah."

"…I figured as much."

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For the millionth time that evening, Quatre was taken with just how much Dorothy had changed from the last time he had seen her. What he had told her but moments before was true. She hadn't changed much…at least, not mentally. She was nearly the same Dorothy that he had crossed blades with five years ago. Yet, as he gazed down on her now, he was struck with the realization that he had never really _looked_ at Dorothy before. Of course, between the missions, worrying about the other Gundam Pilots, facing the ultimate destruction of the Earth, AND saving the colonies from oppression, he had had little time to think on girls. Especially her. As it was, she wasn't the same girlhe remembered. In fact, she wasn't even a _girl_ anymore…she was a full-fledged woman.

And any man in his right mind couldn't help but notice _that_.

This new Dorothy had gained little by the way of height in comparison to the old. What she lacked in stature, however, she made up for in other features. Her brilliant, knee-length golden hair, possibly her most outstanding trait, was done up in an elaborate mess on the top of her head, many strands of which were falling disobediently about her face and down her back. Beneath those wayward locks, her dark blue eyes flashed condescendingly up at him, the fire he so acutely remembered from their fight on Libra having mysteriously disappeared from their misty, sapphire depths. The simple, sleeveless red dress that she wore was rather form-fitting, complementing the figure which she had never possessed in her younger years without revealing much.

As it would seem, the one quality that had not changed over the years was her eyebrows. They were the same prominent peculiarity that they had always been. By far, they were not her best feature. Many would even claim that her eyebrows were flaws. However, in Quatre's mind, she wouldn't be the same person without them. Indeed, he feared that should she ever change them, her infamous feisty attitude and sharp wit would cease to exist. And if that were to ever happen, she would cease to be the person that could so easily surprise the socks off him, a reaction that not many could claim to be able to elicit from the insightful young man.

At that train of thought, Quatre couldn't help but smile slightly. She was one of a kind, this Dorothy Catalonia, and he wouldn't have her any other way. After all, when their two opposing attitudes clashed, it made things quite interesting, a concept that he had come to appreciate more and more after becoming the head of the Winner Corporation. As it was, he had come to realize that he still never really knew what to expect from her, which could be a good or bad thing. Unfortunately for the ignorant blonde, it happened to be a rather bad thing at that particular moment.

"What are YOU looking at!" Dorothy asked, efficiently snapping him back from his reverie and causing a faint blush to creep onto his cheeks as he realized that he had been staring obliviously at her for several minutes.

However, he took the sudden interruption with ease despite his reddened face, gracing her with his trademark smile as he calmly answered, "Nothing that you need concern yourself about."

Dorothy scowled all the more at that, turning her nose up at him, "Hmph. I somehow doubt that."

"Would you have me tell you then?"

"Well, YEAH. What do you think I was implying, hm?" she stated icily, causing Quatre to shrink back slightly. She could scare the socks off of him, too, another idea that was nigh impossible to many – save her.

"I was just marveling about how stunning you look tonight," he replied after a slight hesitation. He had been unable to come up with an elaborate enough lie to fool her, so he had decided it was probably best to stick with something simple – like the truth.

Dorothy gaped, her jaw going slack and her eyes widening considerably the instant the compliment left his mouth, which, in turn, caused his smile to broaden in response. She couldn't possibly know just how surprisingly adorable she looked at that moment. Indeed, the expression on her face was enough to drive him to comment on such, if only to see her reaction; however, just as he opened his mouth to do so, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. When he turned around, he found a man standing there, sporting a rather superior appearance as he eyed the couple haughtily.

"May I cut in?" the man questioned as politely as a man of his manner could, directing the inquiry more at Dorothy than at Quatre.

The aforementioned grimaced, allowing a soft sigh to ease through partially opened lips as an irritated expression spread across her face, "I must be flypaper for freaks, I mean honestly…" Then, as though she hadn't truly _meant_ for that comment to escape, she gasped, covering her mouth in mock horror, "Oops! Did I say that out loud?"

The man paused at this sudden proclamation, the confident air he had sported just moments before dissolving from his features as quick as lightning as the implication of her words sunk in. Yet, being the type of man that he was, he couldn't take the hint without some form of verification.

"Um…does that mean 'no'?" he inquired hesitantly, the look on his face revealing that he still harbored the hope that maybe, just maybe, he had been mistaken and that he had not really been insulted at all, but had been given a subtle invitation to cut in and sweep the lovely Miss Catalonia into the waltz.

However, all the newcomer's hopes were shattered as Dorothy answered quite coolly, "Yes, that means 'no'."

Unfortunately, he seemed to be more stupid than initially assumed as he opened his mouth once again. "But—"

"Didn't I make clear enough for you? I said 'NO'! So bug off already!" she growled, her sarcastic attitude quickly turning to annoyance as she attempted to tell the poor fool off, a task which was easier said than done. It was painfully obvious to the both of them that the man had never dealt with women like Dorothy before.

With a light chuckle, Quatre patted the other man on the arm and playfully teased, "You ought to be more careful around this one. She's mean."

"SHUT UP, _you_," Dorothy snapped without pause, glaring up at her partner. "Or I might just have to take the man's offer."

Quatre's grin widened at this, winking conspiratorially at her as he nonchalantly replied, "Not if I have anything to say about it." And with that said, he swept her away from the man before either of them could protest against it, smiling all the while to himself. He wasn't about to let her get away that easily.

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Dorothy was getting more and more frustrated with Quatre Raberba Winner than she dared to admit. Indeed, his antics had been slightly amusing at the beginning, but now they were just plain annoying. HE was just plain annoying for that matter.

To illustrate her point, the blonde began to ramble about nothing in particular, grating at her nerves and making her wish for the second time that evening that she could strangle her companion, if only to get rid of his nonsensical babble and his infuriatingly happy smile.

He was smiling at her too much. He smiled too much in general. Why did he have to smile anyway? There wasn't anything to smile about. Yet, as if he knew it would annoy her, Quatre's grin not only remained fixed on his face but seemed to grow in its 'cheeriness'.

Dorothy scowled all the more at this. He had nothing to be cheery about. After all, _she_ certainly wasn't happy about this whole situation, so he had no right to be. Seriously, if he was so sensitive to these sorts of things, why on Earth could he not tell that he was driving her crazy? If the man couldn't even see that, then he was just a plain ignoramus. And a fool. And an idiot. And a cretin. And a simpleton. And an annoyance. And so freaking CUTE.

Pause.

'CUTE'! Did she just admit to _that_! It didn't take long for the shock she felt at having allowed such an unguarded thought to enter her brain to turn into even more irritation, most of which happened to be directed at the hapless former Gundam Pilot.

"Look what you've DONE TO ME!" Dorothy shrieked tactlessly, causing all of the couples in the nearest vicinity to stop dancing and look over at the two, astonishment plainly written on all of their faces and the same question flying through each of their minds: 'What on Earth was going on between Dorothy Catalonia and Quatre Raberba Winner?'

"Um…I…I don't follow you," the poor man uttered, obviously embarrassed and not to mention, completely confused. With a one quick glance at the gathering crowd, he once again turned his bright, innocent eyes on her, puzzlement spreading across his face like wildfire. "Is something wrong, Dorothy?"

"GAH!" she raged, tossing up her arms and stalking off of the dance floor and out onto the balcony before he could say another word on the matter. Unfortunately for her, however, the blonde was persistent, quickly following her back to where this whole mess had started: the railing.

A few moments passed in awkward silence, Quatre fumbling for the appropriate words to say to Dorothy and Dorothy trying her hardest to restrain herself from killing Quatre.Strangling him was all she really wanted to do, after all. And maybe, just maybe, she would be saved from succumbing to his ridiculous happy-go-lucky crap if she did so. It really was a shame that she was already being taken in.

Finally, unable to stand having him wait at her elbow gazing at her like some lost puppy, she angrily demanded, "Look, if I throw a stick, will you leave?"

"E-excuse me?" he started, the confusion that he so obviously felt growing in intensity with every passing minute. It was evident that Quatre was just like any other member of the male population: unable to take a hint.

So, with every intention of making the man _take_ the hint even if she had to force it down his throat, she spun on her heel to face him and cried, "G-E-T L-O-S-T, YOU ANNOYINGLY CUTE FREAK!"

Another pause.

Dorothy's face slightly drained of color as she suddenly realized the horrible error that she had just made. However, it was too late to retract the words. The surprised expression on the other's face made that crystal clear.

"You...find me 'cute'?" Quatre tentatively questioned, that stupid, _stupid_ smile creeping back onto his lips once more.

"I DO NOT!" she quickly retorted despite the fact that she knew that _he_ knew she was lying. The faint redness on her cheeks had given that away instantly. "I don't…" she repeated a little more placidly, berating herself for sounding so childish.

"Somehow…I don't believe you," was his simple, yet amused-sounding, reply.

"I don't recall ASKING for your opinion, Winner!" Dorothy heatedly snapped, giving him a penetrating glare that would have made Heero Yuy, himself, jealous.

Reflexively, Quatre hurriedly raised his hands in a calming gesture, a small bead of sweat forming on his forehead as she continued to glower at him, "I know, I know…please calm down…"

She merely twitched in response, spinning away from the former Gundam Pilot once more and folding her arms across her chest as she tapped her foot irritably. She just wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask?

…obviously so.

"I seem to be getting the feeling that something's bothering you," Quatre began in a rather cheerful tone, propping his elbows up on the railing and smiling brightly at her, not perturbed in the least by Dorothy's offensive behavior.

"Nothing's bothering me," she countered harshly, knowing full well that they both knew that that was not true. Something was bothering her. And that something was Quatre Raberba Winner. Indeed, she had found him, _him_ of all people, CUTE. He wasn't cute! He was annoying! Irritating! Frustrating, even! Not cute! Handsome, maybe, but not cute!

There was another loooooong pause.

Dorothy began to hit her head on the railing. As she did so, she began to hope that maybe, just maybe, if she battered her brain enough, she might be able to bash those stupid thoughts out of her mind. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to work very well. All it managed to do was give her a headache and a rather sore spot on her forehead.

"Um…Dorothy?" Quatre tentatively questioned, his bright blue eyes wide with surprise as he watched his companion haphazardly knock her skull against the cool, hard stone of the railing.

"What?" she calmly asked, refusing to stop her continual assault on her poor brain.

"Uh…what are you doing?"

"Gee, what does it look like, Slick?" Dorothy bit out sarcastically.

Quatre coughed into his fist, grinning nervously despite the oddity of the situation, "Like…you're trying to kill yourself?"

She paused for a moment at that comment.

She was losing her mind. Dorothy Catalonia did _not _lose her mind. So, with a deep sigh, she stood up straight again, casually brushing the hair that had fallen out of place during the whole 'head-banging' episode back into place before casting the other blonde a look that said that if he even dared to comment on what had happened, then he would be a dead man. And he, being the intelligent man that he was, took note of the threat and wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.

At least, for a few moments. Obviously, he was also not the type that could stand long silences.

"So…um…why exactly were you—" he began, only to be cut off by Dorothy giving him another glare which plainly stated: 'If you even think about continuing that sentence, I will hang you upside down by your toenails and use you as a punching bag.'

One could not disobey such a look. "Shutting up."

"Good."

And so, for the second time that evening, all was quiet between the two as Quatre desperately searched his brain for some topic which would not lead to a potentially dangerous confrontation with Dorothy and as Dorothy bitterly berated herself for acting so rashly in front of Quatre. However, as previously noted, the former was not the type to let such awkward silences continue for long. So, as nonchalantly as possible, he once again made an attempt at a conversation with the irritable woman.

"If you don't mind me asking…what did I do to you?"

Dorothy silenced her mental scolding for a moment, sullenly eyeing the young Winner from over her shoulder as she inquired harshly, "What do you mean by _that_?"

"Well…while we were dancing…you eluded to the fact that I had done something to you," he slowly explained, inquisitively raising his eyes to meet hers, "I'm curious to know exactly what I did that distressed you so…"

She smirked a little upon hearing that explanation. So he wanted to know why she was so upset with him, huh? Well, if he expected to get an answer out of her, then he had another thing coming. She'd rather be shot then admit to him that she not only thought he was _cute_, but _handsome_ to boot.

So, with a feigned look of indifference, she composedly responded, "I don't think that's any of YOUR business."

As if he had been expecting such a response, Quatre chuckled softly, ruefully shaking his head from side to side and smiling down at her once more, "I'm never going to be able to get a straight answer out of you, am I?"

"Well, that depends on the question, now, doesn't it, Mr. Winner?" she snickered, feeling for the first time that evening that she had full control of the situation. He wasn't going to be able to weasel what he wanted out of her this time. She was sure of it.

"So…you're saying that if I want to get a straight answer out of you, then I'll have to come up with a good enough question?" he probed, leaning on the railing as casually as possible.

"I doubt that you could come up with anything deserving of my attention," was Dorothy's simple, yet harsh, reply.

"Oh? You think so?" he countered just as plainly, his eyes beginning to sparkle with a small, mischievous light, which, due to its close association to an expression which had often been found on Duo Maxwell's animated features, went far from unnoticed by the wary blonde woman. After all, a look like that was never good news.

"Yes, I do, as a matter of fact," she cautiously answered as she suspiciously eyed the other with growing trepidation.

"Well then…" Quatre began, the mischievous look spreading from his eyes to his mouth as an impish smile formed on his lips, "How would you respond to my asking you out to dinner?"

Her response was quite obvious. She laughed. Laughed long and hard; the sound pealing sharply into the cool, night air and chasing whatever fears she had had prior to that moment away by the mere absurdity of the suggestion. _Her_? Go on a date with _him_? It was absolutely ludicrous. Insane, even.

"And s-since _that_ is g-going to be happen-ing anytime s-soon…" Dorothy stuttered, unable to stop her uncontrollable fit of giggles. It was just too much for her.

Quatre's smile faded a little as she chortled raucously to herself; however, the mischievous look on his face did anything but weaken. It merely seemed to grow in intensity. "How would you know if 'that' were to happen soon or not?"

Despite the subtlety of the question, his companion caught the implied meaning of it instantly, her laughter dying from her lips as quickly as it had come and her features gaining a look of stupefied confusion, "Say WHA—?"

"Dorothy, would you give me the honor of accompanying me out to dinner tomorrow evening?" the former Gundam Pilot repeated, smiling radiantly at her bewildered expression.

There was yet another pause.

All at once, the color drained from Dorothy's features. He couldn't possibly be asking her what she thought he was asking her. It was _NOT_ right! She loathed him, after all! And you did NOT date a man you LOATHED, even if he was cute…and handsome…and- and what was WRONG with her! She _knew_ without a shadow of a doubt that she absolutely hated the moron and, yet, the only thing that she could think about at that moment was how adorable he was! If she didn't know better, she would've thought that she was in lo…

There was yet another very looooooong pause.

It couldn't be. It just COULDN'T be! She, Dorothy Catalonia, could not have fallen for _THAT_! It was IMPOSSIBLE! UNBELIEVABLE! Utterly and completely PREPOSTOROUS! …and yet…it made a strange sort of sense…

"Um…Dorothy?"

"What is it NOW, Winner!" she snapped furiously, all of her rage being directed at the poor, unwitting blonde, who was, in her eyes, obviously to blame for the destruction of her whole mental ideology, an action which she considered to be punishable by death.

Another bead of sweat appeared on Quatre's forehead as he nervously reiterated, "So…uh…was that a yes or a no?"

"You wanna know my answer!" she screeched, murderous thoughts flashing through her brain as she glared up at him.

"Um…y-yes…" he hesitantly responded, becoming more and more apprehensive as the moments passed.

"Well, I…you…" Dorothy strained to answer, angrily struggling to find the most callous, malicious words to proclaim her vehement, negative answer and, instead of finding that which she was searching for, came up with the total opposite, "FINE!"

What'd she say!

All of the nervousness that had once been so prevalent on Quatre's face vanished like magic the instant that single word of acceptance left her lips, being replaced almost immediately by the most jovial smile that had graced his features the entire night.

"Great! I'll pick you up around seven tomorrow evening, all right?"

Dorothy made to answer, but was instantly cut off.

"Right! See you then!" And with that said, the blonde disappeared back into the ballroom before Dorothy could even utter another word on the matter, leaving her standing there by the balcony railing, looking completely dumbfounded and totally spent.

Wait…what just happened here?

It took another moment for the reality of her situation to sink in. She had a date. A date with Quatre Raberba Winner.

And the worse thing about it was that she was actually _calm_ about the whole thing. _CALM_. She shouldn't be _calm_! She should be angry. Ranting. Raving. Chasing after that blonde idiot and making him choke on his own proposals. SOMETHING! ANYTHING! Yet…there was nothing. Just a dull, calm acceptance. And something else. Something even more disturbing then the fact that she was not angry…happiness.

She was…happy.

She wasn't supposed to be happy! She hated him and she hated what he did to her! But she was happy all the same. Of course…she was coming to realize that she was feeling a lot of things that she wasn't supposed to feel. After all, she wasn't supposed to _like_ the idea of going out on a date with the former Gundam Pilot…but she was… She wasn't supposed to _like_ the prospect of falling in love…but she was…

Was the world spinning out of control at this revelation? No…but her mind sure was.

"WHAT ON EARTH HAS HE _DONE_ TO ME!" the exclamation echoed loudly into the glittering, vast outreaches of space. Unfortunately for the woman who had cried it, there was nothing in the universe that could provide her with an answer.

**- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -**

_Why do you do what you do to me, baby?_  
_Shaking my confidence and driving me crazy._  
_You know if I could, I'd do anything for you._  
_I don't mean to bore you, but you know I adore you._

--Pretend to be Nice, Josie and the Pussycats

**- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -**

**AN:** It's finally FINISHED! FINISHED, I tell you! You don't know HOW much I've wanted to say those words! After all, between getting my schoolwork done, hanging out with friends, bugging my poor beta reader (who, due to her continuous efforts, kept me sane during the duration of those long months of writing…), and struggling through various different mind cramps and plot holes, I never really expected to finish it! -cackles maniacally- But it's HAPPENED! IT'S FINISHED! And it's actually HALF-WAY DECENT!

(Wufei) Do we HAVE to have this conversation again?  
(Jintachi) Gr…no one ASKED YOU! -sulks-  
(Quatre) -reassuringly- I think its fine, Miss Jintachi…don't worry…  
(Jintachi) -beams- Why THANK you, Quatre! -glomp-  
(Wufei) -grunts- He would say that.  
(Jintachi) -sticks her tongue out at him- At least he has FAITH in me, not like some of my OTHER muses… -glares at Wufei and Saitou as she cuddles Quatre-  
(Saitou) This fanfiction has no point. -scanning the fic with disdain-  
(Jintachi) -rolls her eyes- No, duh…Saitou-sama…it's…FLUFF.  
(Saitou) -twitch- Then what's the point in reading it? -thrusts the fic away-  
(Jintachi) You…you don't like it? -sniffles-  
(Saitou) What do YOU think?  
(Jintachi) -wail-  
(Wufei) & (Saitou) -cringe-  
(Wufei) Make her stop, Winner!  
(Quatre) -trying to, but failing miserably- There, there, Miss Jintachi…it's all right…  
(Saitou) -groans, addressing Jintachi- SHUT UP, Ahou…  
(Jintachi) -wails louder-  
(Wufei) (Quatre) & (Saitou) -cringe-  
(Quatre) I don't think that helped any… -looks to the readers- Look, um…maybe you could help us bit? You know, review and such?  
(Jintachi) -brightens at the mere mentioning of reviews- Reviews? WHERE?  
(Wufei) & (Saitou) -sweatdrop- She's insane… 


End file.
